This Halloween has been a complete and utter suck-fest. My husband SilverFox, my best gay Patrick and I were all set for a great Halloween. Costumes? Check. Then it all turned to hell…and not in a good “everyone’s goin’ to hell and that’s where the party is” kind of way. Gotdamnit. Patrick made other plans, and I’ve been fighting an icky infection, with even ickier meds for over about month now. So, instead SilverFox and I have been watching stuff like The Inside Story of “Silence of the Lambs” on the Biography Channel, to cheer me up, instead of leaving the house.
Another strange phenomenon has occurred in my heart and my head is that I’m mourning the loss of my boys’ childhood. Halloween was always The. Big. Party. The time spent on figuring out who we were “gonna be” for Halloween, then making the perfect costumes was EPIC–and I loved it. We ALL did. We were the total party house…and now it’s over. (In all reality, it’s been over for years, but since I’m feeling sorry for myself, I might as well go whole hog, oui?)
Sure, our three-year old grandson Felix gets to dress up, and hopefully, we’ll get to see him in his costume this year, because we’ve been forgotten every year since he was born for Halloween. (Hey, I heard that gasp. I’m allowed to be as passive-aggressive as the rest of my family, okay?) In reality, I think we’ll probably get to see our li’l Punkin-Doodle tonight.
Hey, now! Look who showed up this afternoon! The li’l Punkin’-Doodle and his daddy, Alex!
Extra credit if you recognize the shirt Alex is wearing…
Get this, though, a few days ago, I was at the magazine rack at the grocery store…and there it was: Martha Stewart’s Halloween Issue 2011. My throat tightened up. I literally had to swallow the tears welling up that I rarely even shed anymore. Suddenly, I felt like I was no longer needed as a mother. (Just let me be the Dramatic Whore that I am for a second, okay?) You guys DON’T. EVEN. KNOW. (Sniff…sniff…)
So to torture myself even more, I’m posting a favorite Ren and Stimpy episode that Alex, Hunter and I used to love, from 1992 — when Alex was 8 and Hunter was 2 1/2. Sigh…
I hope YOU had and continue to have a decent Halloween, though. And, hey send me some pictures–I’ll post them. Just don’t send nasty ones, or I’ll be pissed.
(Send to: DivaJulia@dippedincream.com)
Signed, Mama Morose McMaudlin